


Worse Things Than Confessors

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a horror challenge at Legendland.  A D'Haran soldier tries to make his way back to the Palace after a Confessor has wiped out the rest of his Quad. He's relieved to find a Mord'Sith to escort him, but as they go deeper into the forest he begins to be afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Things Than Confessors

The D'Haran soldier paused to take a drink from his water skin. He was the only survivor of his Quad, who'd had the misfortune to come up against a Confessor. The white-clad monstrosity had grabbed a soldier by his throat and he'd turned on his comrades in arms.

The soldier blinked angry tears away. After his fellow guards had been killed, it had fallen to him to murder the Confessed man. He had hated to plunge his sword into his friend's heart but it was necessary. Not just to save his own life, for the Confessed would show no mercy and would have killed him without hesitation. No, more than that, it was the only way to save the Confessed's soul, to set him free from the curse laid on him by the witch. 

Confessors! Those despicable creatures were the worst thing in the entire Keeper damned world, looking so innocent and then enslaving with a single touch.

He'd had to choose whether to chase down the abomination, who'd fled while they were fighting, or return to the People's Palace to report his failure - and get reinforcements, the better to hunt down the Confessor.

He was exhausted from the fight, bleeding from a number of small wounds, and he'd decided that reporting a Confessor's presence so close to the Palace took precedence. He'd taken what he thought was a shortcut through a dense woodland, and it wasn't until now he'd lost sight of the narrow entranceway that he realised these woods were the ones said to be haunted.

He told himself the tales were just stories. He pressed on, reasoning he was halfway through the woods and might as well go forward as backward. Wicked thorned bushes and thick trunked trees with twisted branches laden with dark leaves lined his path, making it dark as midnight.

He froze when he thought he saw a glimpse of white cloth, drawing his sword to attack the Confessor. Trembling he took a step forward. There was a noise at his side and he spun. A tall woman gazed at him, her green eyes cool, her blonde braid reaching to the waist of her red leather outfit. A Mord'Sith! He was saved.

"You're a long way from home," she said.

He nodded, sheathing his sword. "I must report to Lord Rahl," he said.

"Come."

He followed her along the winding path but the way became even darker and narrower. "I do not question you, Mistress, but are you certain this is the way out?"

"Out?" she asked, turning to face him, and her eyes glowed like the Underworld and her teeth were now fangs that dripped a sticky fluid. "Oh, no. This isn't the way out at all."

The shapeshifter who haunted the woods pounced. 

There were worse things in the world than Confessors after all.


End file.
